The Castle Inn - Page 112/559

Under the smoothness of Sir George's words, under the subtle mockery of

his manner, throbbed a volcano of passion and vengeance. But this was

for the lawyer only, even as he alone saw the moonlight gleam faintly on

the pistol barrel that lurked behind his companion's thigh. For Mr.

Dunborough, it would be hard to imagine a man more completely taken by

surprise. He swore one great oath, for he saw, at least, that the

meeting boded him 110 good; then he sat motionless in his saddle, his

left hand on the pommel, his right held stiffly by his side.

The moon, which of the two hung a little at Sir George's back, shone only on the

lower part of Dunborough's face, and by leaving his eyes in the shadow

of his hat, gave the others to conjecture what he would do next. It is

probable that Sir George, whose hand and pistol were ready, was

indifferent; perhaps would have hailed with satisfaction an excuse for

vengeance. But Mr. Fishwick, the pacific witness of this strange

meeting, awaited the issue with staring eyes, his heart in his mouth;

and was mightily relieved when the silence, which the heavy breathing of

Mr. Dunborough's horse did but intensify, was broken on the last comer's

side, by nothing worse than a constrained laugh.

'Travel together?' he said, with an awkward assumption of jauntiness,

'that depends on the road we are going.' 'Oh, we are going the same road,' Sir George answered, in the mocking

tone he had used before.

'You are very clever,' Mr. Dunborough retorted, striving to hide his

uneasiness; 'but if you know that, sir, you have the advantage of me.' 'I have,' said Sir George, and laughed rudely.

Dunborough stared, finding in the other's manner fresh cause for

misgiving. At last, 'As you please,' he said contemptuously. 'I am for

Calne. The road is public. You may travel by it.' 'We are not going to Calne,' said Sir George.

Mr. Dunborough swore. 'You are d----d impertinent!' he said, reining

back his horse, 'and may go to the devil your own way. For me, I am

going to Calne.' 'No,' said Sir George, 'you are not going to Calne. She has not gone

Calne way.' Mr. Dunborough drew in his breath quickly. Hitherto he had been

uncertain what the other knew, and how far the meeting was accidental;

now, forgetful what his words implied and anxious only to say something

that might cover his embarrassment, 'Oh,' he said, 'you are--you are in

search of her?' 'Yes,' said Sir George mockingly. 'We are in search of her. And we want

to know where she is.' 'Where she is?' 'Yes, where she is. That is it; where she is. You were to meet her here,

you know. You are late and she has gone. But you will know whither.' Mr. Dunborough stared; then in a tempest of wrath and chagrin, 'D----n

you!' he cried furiously. 'As you know so much, you can find out

the rest!' 'I could,' said Sir George slowly. 'But I prefer that you should help

me. And you will.' 'Will what?' 'Will help me, sir,' Sir George answered quickly, 'to find the lady we

are seeking.' 'I'll be hanged if I will,' Dunborough cried, raging and furious.